


In the Headlights

by meggiewrites



Series: finding the lights [1]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: A Bucketload of Panicking, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, German National Team, Group Therapy for Queer Footballers, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Bedroom Dynamics, Walk Of Shame, supportive boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: When Matze and Manuel run into each other on a deserted hotel floor at the crack of dawn, it doesn’t take either of them long to realize that the other might comprehend that he didn’t spend the night in his own bed.They deal with it accordingly. Mostly, by panicking.





	In the Headlights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [temsah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temsah/gifts).



> So, [temsah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/temsah) and I plotted this in one single day back when we met up this summer – most of it on a lake cruise (what an appropriate place to talk about shipping) It's been a work in progress ever since, and I'm glad that I've finally finished it! And quite a bit proud, too.
> 
> A special shoutout and thank you to [Khalehla](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla) ♥ for her terrific beta work and always cheering me on when I was ready to quit. I couldn't be more thankful for you.
> 
> Also, thank you to Mena, Frauke, Nani, Aya, Lena, Charmaine and Delilah for doing everything to convince me that I can actually write and should continue doing it ♥♥
> 
> And of course, thanks temsah for plotting with me – I had so much fun doing it, and I can't believe we actually produced something bringing our two other OTPs together! ♥ (And can you believe it, there's not a single mention of Hömmels ... well, maybe if you squint)

Waking up early was a weird thing. It was five am sharp when Matze’s alarm rang, and the noise rang through his head like a very annoying and persistent headache. Julian still had an arm slung around his waist, and he didn’t even stir as Matze tried to untangle their limbs as carefully as possible in order not to wake him up. He peeked out of the window, tightly wrapping his arms around his own body, shivering a bit, the sky still dark, the sun not up yet. The city seemed asleep, the streets were deserted. He spotted a cat crossing the street in an idle stride, as if it knew that there would be no impending doom from menacing cars this early in the morning.

After he’d gotten dressed – only in his pyjamas, socks and some slippers – he cast another glance over at the bed. Julian was still asleep. He looked a lot younger when he was sleeping, Matze’d noticed before. Or maybe, he pondered, he just looked his actual age. They all had to grow up way too quickly in this business.

He knew he was only one out of two people who got to see Julian this vulnerable, the midfielder didn’t usually let people see this softer, less polished and powerful version of him.

Sometimes it felt weird, reconnecting the familiar image of his friend and colleague with the one of his secret lover, even when it’s been – he shivered but couldn’t resist a tiny smile at the thought – more than a year now that they’ve been doing this. Sometimes it still didn’t feel real, didn’t feel like something he experienced, like something he was allowed to experience. He felt his cheeks heat up as he recalled what had happened once he’d quietly closed Julian’s door behind him the night before.

Tearing his eyes away from the dark-haired midfielder’s sleeping form wasn’t as easy as it should have been, considering that he knew that his little walk of shame would feel more terrifying the longer he waited. It was already a quarter past five when he finally left the room.

The clicking noise the door made as he gently closed it made him startle even though he expected it. It resonated impossibly loud in the wide, open hallway. He furrowed his brows as he heard what sounded like an echo of the same noise from his right, and the panic only started to grow deep in his stomach as he raised his gaze, because standing in front of the second door on his right, eyes wide and standing completely frozen, was his captain.

\--

In all the dozen, maybe even hundreds, of times Manu had been sneaking in and out of hotel rooms ever since he’d been with Thomas, he had never been caught.

It seemed logical, since no one except the kitchen staff and one unlucky receptionist was usually awake before six o’clock, at least not when it came to the floors the DFB usually rented out for them. He’d been grateful about that before; he’d never been a morning person and probably couldn’t survive a week on a job that required being up and ready for work before eight every day, but ever since he was in a relationship with one of his teammates, getting up at ungodly hours had become, at least almost, a routine.

Thomas usually teased him about his grumpiness early in the morning and his inability to wake up quickly, always the first to stir when their alarm sounded, sometimes even awake before that, and usually had to almost throw him out of the bed so that Manu would actually get up and make the trek back to his own room. It certainly helped that Thomas usually bribed him into it with kisses and gentle touches.

This time they’d parted with a short peck, and Manu still felt his skin tingle where Thomas had let his fingers ghost over his cheeks in a caress as light as a feather. Still, his eyes were heavy and he couldn’t wait to fall back into his own bed and to nap for just another hour before probably being a few minutes late for breakfast, as usual (which he always earned him dirty looks from someone from the coaching staff, but he’d stopped caring about that a long time ago, and they’d gotten used to it even before that, knowing he’d always give 100% for the rest of the day) – so he didn’t immediately notice the other person in the hallway once he’d shut Thomas’ door behind him.

Matze looked just as shell-shocked as he felt, and for what felt like an eternity, the two of them just stared at each other like two deer caught in the headlights. Despite usually having a great poker face, Manu internally winced at the image he must have presented – sleep-rumpled, with messy hair and a panicked look in his eyes, standing in front of a door that so clearly wasn’t his own. He just prayed that Thomas had had the foresight to not leave any marks in places that would be visible for all the world to see. For Matze to see. He prayed that Matze didn’t make the right conclusions, helplessly wished that his biggest secret wasn’t out in the open like this. He felt nausea rising up his throat at the thought.

Matze couldn’t have realized. He couldn’t know.

\--

The look on Manuel’s face was unreadable. Everyone who played with him quickly realized that his famous stoic and composed façade was just that – an act that he put on. A very effective one, but still an act. Matze remembered how surprised he’d been when the first time he’d been called up, he’d seen Manuel share a giggle with Benni and Mats, eyes crinkled up, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking not half as intimidating as during the handful times he’d faced the Bayern keeper during the season.

Usually, the tall blond seemed to be, apart from games, quite the sunshine, and even someone like Matze who didn’t really know him well could usually tell if he was happy, annoyed or mad. But now, the mask was firmly place. Matze quickly felt himself crumbling under the stare of those steely blue eyes, sharp like daggers.

His felt his heartbeat in his throat, convinced that Manuel Neuer, national treasure, the World’s Best Goalkeeper, could pick up on every single one of his dirty little secrets, could read on his forehead how Julian Draxler had laid him out on his sheets just hours before.

It didn’t take long until the thoughts and the panic became too much to bear.

In the end, Matze didn’t even fully realize how he’d made it down to the lobby. He remembered turning to the stairs, slowly retreating, not daring to run, afraid of what a sudden flight might have admitted. He only came to a hall once he was faced with the pretty redheaded receptionist that had already called his attention the day before.

He flushed again as he noticed her swiftly typing something into the computer in front of her while talking to a customer on the phone. The language was sounded foreign to his ears, wrapping around his head like a dizzy lullaby.

Matze wasn’t sure if she’d even seen him, but he couldn’t help but feel like she must have been able to recognize all his sins too, that he let himself be bent over by a guy hardly older than himself. For a moment he froze again, his mind a big cluster of _She knows, she must know. And so does Manuel, oh god. I can’t stay here, oh god, I need to leave, she can’t see me like this, oh god._

He felt like suffocating when she looked up and smiled at him, and he was sure that his following sprint to the entrance door – thankfully one with sliding doors, not one of those annoying spinning things – must have looked spectacular, but it took another few minutes until he felt like he could breathe again and didn’t feel sick anymore. Still, the panic didn’t subside.

_Oh my god. What have I done?_

\--

At the same time, Manu still stood frozen in the hallway. _Now wouldn’t be a bad time for the ground to swallow me whole_ , he thought, and inadvertently snorted at his own sudden bout of fatalism but still remained frozen on the spot. He hadn’t moved in five minutes, and only startled when the elevator suddenly started to hum, which quickly made him turn to the stairs that Matze had hurried down earlier. If his world was ending anyway, at least there needn’t be someone witnessing it, and he could very well feel like dying in his own room.

It was one floor further up, at the end of the hallway and slightly bigger than Thomas’ – captain’s privilege; it doesn’t get you a pay raise, but at least you get a suite instead of a regular room. His previous plan of taking another pre-breakfast nap was quickly abandoned once he arrived; instead, he carefully sat down on the edge of his bed, blearily staring at the white wall as his mind raced in record-breaking speed.

 _Just someone else who knows about the one thing I’ve been trying to deny and hide away for the past two decades. No big deal, right?_ He almost felt like laughing, and quickly wondered if he’d gone completely crazy. It would have been something else if it’d been, say, Mesut, Mats or even Boa. They were his friends, he’d known them from a long time, and some days he felt guilty for not telling them about it. Not letting any of his friends know that he was gay.

But Matze, Matze was a wild card. They’d played for the DFB together for several years, sure, but they were just too far apart in age, and had never been part of the same group, even if Mats had usually switched between the Dortmund bunch and the ‘senior’, more experienced players. Matze probably saw him as his captain, no more, no less. A captain about whom he now knew that he was in some kind of relationship with one of his teammates. He just prayed that the young defender hadn’t memorized the room plan, that Manu hadn’t outed Thomas too in his own carelessness.

He spent the rest of the time until breakfast staring holes into his wall, quite sure that once he’d put on some proper clothes and his trainers and headed down to the dining hall, he’d feel like he hadn’t slept at all.

\--

After fiddling around on his phone for a bit, scrolling through Twitter and checking his private messages on instagram, Matze had returned to his room once the first people had started leaving the hotel just shortly before half past six. He was startled away from his screen once a businessman, phone attached to his ear that he was speaking into rapidly and in a language Matze couldn’t name, rushed past him, hailing a taxi.

The trip back up to his room felt like an eternity. As soon as he’d laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling just for a few moments before he picked up his phone again, looking for an easy distraction, and started up one of the many games he’d saved on it.

In the end, he was five minutes early for breakfast, but thankfully, most of the players were already there. Julian was sat with Mats, Benni and some of the Schalkers, and Matze purposefully chose to join some of the youngsters who were loudly arguing over the advantages of tea vs. coffee instead. Some of them nodded at him in greeting, but most of them didn’t pay him any mind.

Julian looked up at him real quick, tilted his eyes a bit, but he thankfully didn’t seem worried at all. They’d decided to remain at a professional distance during all the international breaks, only sometimes spending time together out in the open, so Matze really hoped that he wouldn’t suspect that anything was wrong; that he’d assume he was just keeping his distance as they agreed to.

When Manuel finally joined the rest of the team, he looked bedridden, his hair a mess, eyes still almost squinted shut. As his gaze roamed over the others, Matze had the feeling that the captain carefully avoided meeting his eyes on purpose. (He couldn’t blame him, trying to hide his own observations too, quickly looking away when Manuel looked in his direction) In the end, he surprised Matze by not sitting down at the table where by now most of the Bayern squad had joined Mats and the others, but taking a seat at the other end of the table where the youngsters were clearly trying to be the most rambunctious group in the room.

Just as Matze looked over at him, trying to find out something, anything, about what the older man intended to do now, he looked up, their eyes  meeting accidentally. Matze could feel his own eyes grow wide, but he couldn’t help noticing how the captain looked slightly (quite) caught off guard as well.

Quickly, he looked back down at his breakfast. He had served himself more food than usual, and the rest of the time was easily spent by demolishing it, carefully avoiding all conversation by always eating, keeping his mouth busy, and pointedly not looking in Manuel’s direction, instead choosing to study his Julian’s back. He was laughing, and Matze could see his shoulders bobbing, a sight that eased at least some of the unease in his stomach.

\--

Matze was avoiding him; of course he was. He was probably trying to figure out what do with the information he’d just gained on one of the team’s most prominent members. Manu felt his heart sink with every bite he took, grateful for his choice of seat; from here, he could keep an eye on the younger player and also avoid Thomas on top of that, who knew him way too well to not figure out that something was wrong. He also knew that Manu’d been alright before he’d left his room, so he’d probably come to the right conclusion: that something must have happened between then and breakfast. So Manu kept his distance because for now, he didn’t want Thomas involved in this mess. (Even though he could have used a hug from him, if he was being honest with himself.)

He knew that he had to confront Matze eventually even if it made the blood ring in his ears, but both not knowing how his younger teammate was handling it and the fact that it was literally his job as a captain to take care of internal conflicts among the players – including his own – made that conversation unavoidable.

Manu sighed, causing Kevin Volland, sitting on his right, to shoot him a curious look. He waved him off with a weak smile and a soft shake of his head, which luckily was apparently enough for the Leverkusener to shrug it off and go back to demolishing his big bowl of granola.

He was glad when Jogi and the rest of the coaching staff entered the mess hall, calling them for training. The grass felt familiar underneath his boots, and putting on his gloves, standing in the goal, jumping, catching the ball, rinse, repeat; the routine he’d gone through thousands of times since he was a little boy, managed to unknot the mess of his mind, making him feel like a person again. The session was intense, the upcoming games crucial, but it successfully took his mind off the impending doom that was hanging over his head like Damocles’ sword.

Between the way both Bernd and Marc avoided his eyes and how Andi shot him the rare and in between concerned glance, he was aware that he must have looked like his world was just about to end, which he knew usually ended in what Thomas called his “scary, resting bitch face”, throwing himself into his work like a madman. By the Jogi’s whistle went, with lunchtime just around the corner, feeling the sweat dripping down his back and unsuccessfully trying to pull his gloves off, Manu had almost succeeded in repressing all thoughts about the upcoming conversation. His nerves returned in a rush when the field players joined them at the side of the training pitch, though. He could feel Thomas’ concerned stare hefted at his back, but he knew that he’d do better to avoid his other half until this was done.

Reluctantly, he pushed his way through his laughing and joking teammates, most of them in a great mood – apparently it had been a good training for everybody, not just him. Matze stuck out of the crowd like a sore thumb. The young defender seemed to freeze on the spot as soon as he realized that Manu was walking towards him. By the time he reached him, Manu felt his heart drum a tattoo against his chest.

“Can you come see me in my room after lunch real quick?” he whispered under his breath, so that no one else would pay them any attention.

Matze nodded, and for whatever reason he looked just as panicked as Manu felt.

At lunch neither of them ate much. Manu barely touched his couscous salad and out of the corner of his eye he observed Matze only aimlessly stabbing around in his own little collection of sides as well. By the time he’d given up on eating most of the players were already leaving the room, someone clapping him on the shoulder (he didn’t even register who it was) and someone else giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze (Thomas, it must have been him. He wanted to lean into the support, but instead he just looked up at his boyfriend, offering him a unconvincing smile that only made the lanky forward frown, his eyes clearly saying ‘you’re gonna tell me what’s going on later’), his nerves were completely on edge again.

Matze was hovering by the door, awkwardly leaving the others pass by him, his shoulder accidentally bumping into Emre – or was it Sebastian? Manu wouldn’t have noticed. He was too busy trying to suppress the familiar feeling of an approaching anxiety attack, knowing what was about to come, knowing that it’d only get worse if they didn’t clear this up, unable to notice the panicked look in the younger blond’s eyes as Manu finally, painstakingly slow, walked up to him.

\--

The trip up to the captain’s suite felt like a small eternity. Matze could feel drops of sweat running down his neck. His fingers were cold as ice, but he still felt as hot and dizzy as if he’d taken a two hour nap in the mediterranean sun in midst of summer. He had been unable to look Manuel in the eyes, but curiously enough, as he finally dared a side-eyed glance, the captain was stubbornly staring at the carpet beneath his feet as well.

Still, he couldn’t shake the panic rising up in his throat. Couldn’t it have been anyone else? One of his friends, one of the younglings, someone that wasn’t the probably most acknowledged player on the team. Someone who’d laugh at him, be disgusted, but not someone who could make him lose his international career, everything he’d worked for, with the snap of a finger.

He snapped out of his thoughts once the elevator let out a small ‘ping’, indicating they’d reached the top floor. Matze didn’t even remember stepping into it.

Manuel’s room was at the end of the hallway, and he lead them through it, always a step in front of Matze. Once they reached the door, Manuel fumbled with his keycard for a bit, quietly swearing when it didn’t seem to work. When the door finally opened, Matze noticed that the room was noticeably bigger than his own and the two or so others he’s visited the day before. The big windows were overlooking the hotel gardens and a considerable amount of sky, and instead of a small lounge area, he had a full blown couch, a coffee table, a minibar and two comfortable-looking armchairs completing the arrangement.

Manuel cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you want to sit?”

Matze hesitated.

For another few uncomfortable seconds, they just stared at each other, until Manuel lowered himself down on one of the chairs himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest, pulling the sleeves of his shirts down over his knuckles. It felt strange, sitting down on the couch opposite of him, only the overly polished coffee table in between them. As if Matze’d been asked to talk to his shrink. Or as if he was getting uncomfortable news. As if he was getting fired.

His stomach sank.

\--

It would have been a vast understatement to claim that Matze looked uncomfortable. His eyes were unfocused, darting around the room while clearly avoiding him, and now that Manu was finally taking a closer look at him instead of just sneaking short glances, he noticed how the blond looked as if Manu’d just passed his death sentence. Strange, considering it wasn’t him who had everything to lose.

Manu picked at his clothes (he always needed to occupy his fingers when he was nervous). A thread was loosely hanging off his pants where he’d cut them off once again (something their kitman always gave him a talking to for) and he slowly pulled it away from the rest of the fabric.

He felt his stomach knot and untie itself again and again, making him nauseous, but only after a few minutes of an almost painful silence, he dared to clear his throat again. It felt coarse, as if it was lined with sandpaper.

“About this morning...”

If the previous one had felt like hours, this silence felt like a century. Matze gaped at him, his hands visibly shaking.

The words felt like an explosion, once he blurted them out, too loud in the quietness of the room. “I’m not gay, I swear I’m not! But Julian and I…” he trailed off, lowering his gaze. Matze’s shoulders were trembling.

Manu blinked.

“Which Julian?” It felt stupid to ask, irrelevant, but his mind was blank, completely wiped clean by this unexpected outburst, and somehow, that was the only thing he was able to think of.

 _Matze_ _didn’t know_. And apparently had some kind of affair with one of the Julians. He almost missed the murmured “Draxler”, but actually, he couldn’t have cared less – the most important thing was that the young defender didn’t know. Matze’d been concerned about _himself_ , not Manu, and was probably mortified at the thought of getting interrupted on his walk of shame by his captain, of all people!

Manu felt like letting out an incredulous laugh, but he wasn’t quite sure if Matze would have appreciated it. Instead, he took a deep breath.

“You know I don’t mind, right?” he said, his voice almost trembling.

Matze sent him a quizzical glance.

“If you and Jule have a thing going on. Hell, good for you! As long as you’re safe and are enjoying yourself, you have my blessing. I won’t rat you out to Jogi either, I promise. And you say you’re not gay? Well honestly, in this day and age we shouldn’t have to label ourselves in order to like someone. If you’re straight and he’s your exception, that’s cool. If you’d be gay, that’s cool too; love is love, after all. And honestly, who even decided that gay footballers don’t exist? Hoping for that and believing it to be true is a whole other thing.”

\--

Matze listened to Manuel’s rant with wide eyes. Slowly, very slowly, he felt some of the unease slipping off his shoulders, something akin to relief replacing it, creeping up from his heart – which was still beating twice as fast as usual.

Manuel was still talking. He couldn’t recall ever hearing the goalkeeper talk that much, especially not all at the same time. He furrowed his brows as the taller blond almost got himself into a muddle. Actually, he hadn’t ever heard Manuel talk that _fast_ either.

He let his eyes dart around the room once more, letting them meander over the meticulously made bed, looking almost as if no one had slept in it yet, the bathroom door, the slightly wilting flowers on a random side-table as his mind suddenly came to a halt.

This wasn’t the same room he’d seen Manuel leave this morning. It couldn’t be, considering that Julian’s room, the one he’d unfortunately got caught sneaking out of this morning, was on the third floor, one below his own. _Two_ floors below the one they were currently on. Just as he came to the conclusion that their captain, too, had been trying to slip out of a room that wasn’t his, he picked up on what Manuel was saying again. He’d slowed down by then, trailing off, his last words quiet, hardly more than a mumble.

Still, they couldn’t have resonated any louder in Matze’s mind.

“Times have changed, after all. And actually, um, me personally, I don’t really necessarily like the whole girl thing all too much at all myself, actually.”

It took Matze a moment to process that, a few minutes until he finally made the right conclusion. Manuel was once again fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, seemingly focused on a loose thread, when the information finally truly fleshed out.

_He’s gay. Holy shit, Manuel Neuer is gay._

Matze cleared his throat. Manuel looked up, and it was only now that the younger footballer recognized the look in his teammate’s eyes. It was the same fear of rejection, the same insecurity  he’d felt just moments ago himself, burning just as bright – if not brighter.

He cleared his throat again. “And this morning?”

Manuel sighed, lowering his eyes again, tearing another loose thread off the rest of the dark fabric.

“Thomas.”

Matze opened his mouth. Then closed it again, only just barely managing to produce what hopefully looked like an understanding nod, wondering how he was supposed to process the fact that Germany and Bayern’s award winning number one was apparently sleeping with his vice-captain.

\--

Manu felt slightly nauseous. Sure, telling Matze had been the logical conclusion, felt only fair, after the kid had offered him his own secret on a platter. Still, he simply wasn’t used to _people knowing_. He could count them on one hand, actually, and still have a finger or two left.

His teammate still had that deer in the headlights look about him, but he looked decidedly less panicked than before both their admissions. And despite still feeling almost physically sick, Manu noticed how his heartbeat didn’t drum in his ears anymore as the information and the reality of Matze being aware of his sexuality and his relationship with Thomas started sinking in.

For what felt like hours but were probably just mere seconds, neither of them said anything. In the end, it was Manu himself who spoke up again.

“This stays between us, alright?”

Matze eagerly nodded, before tilting his head a bit.

“Can I tell Jule?”

Manu sighed before nodding. He didn’t add that he’d probably tell Thomas as well.

They stared at each other for a few more awkward moments until Matze awkwardly nodded again before getting up and shuffling over to the door.

The silence got louder once Matze’d quietly closed the door behind him. It took a few more seconds until Manu dared to take a deep breath, a bit shaken, a bit relieved. His hands trembled as he lifted them to run them over his face. When he finally got up he made a beeline for the minibar, regulations be damned.

\--

Matze somehow ended up in the lobby again. This time, the pretty receptionist was nowhere in sight, in her stead was an elderly gentleman who frowned at Matze once he froze at the bottom of the stairs, unsure of what to do with himself of the quite heavy bit of information he’d just obtained. Once the frown turned into a glare, Matze came to his senses, quickly turning right, away from the reception, the stairs and the entrance (and thus any potential meeting with any of his teammates) and ending up  face to face with a big, luxurious and well-stocked vending machine that still seemed rather misplaced in the elegant hotel lobby.

After a bit of thought, he rummaged through his pockets to find a few spare coins before deciding on a family sized pack of gummy bears and retreating to one of the seating areas, as far away from all other guests as possible. The bears kept him busy for at least half an hour as he mindlessly munched on them, trying to push all thoughts away as far as possible, instead deciding to observe the people entering and leaving the hotel and having the one and in between polite argument with the sourly clerk. In the end, it was Julian Weigl who spotted him, having come down together with Joshua and Niklas. Matze was glad for the reminder of the upcoming team tactics meeting, having completely forgotten the time, and he offered Julian a lopsided smile when he asked him to join them.

The meeting room was still almost empty when they entered it, their captain still conspicuously absent. Matze was just staring at the wall as the other boys were just casually chattering on his left, with the other players trickling into the room one after another, when someone flopped down onto the chair on his right. Julian – _his_ Julian – looked as effortlessly cool as he always did, but Matze had known him long enough intimately and even longer as friends before that, too, to pick up on the questioning look in his dark eyes.

“What was that this morning?”

Matze sighed, but just as he was about to open his mouth, Löw and the rest of the coaching staff entered the room, demanding the player’s attention, making them both turn back to face the whiteboard again before he was able to speak up.

“I’ll tell you later”, Matze whispered, before letting his eyes quickly scan the room. He noted that Manuel still hadn’t turned up whereas everyone else seemed to be present – an unnecessary effort as he realized, because just after he’d focused his attention back on their coach, the door opened for a last time, letting their captain in. His eyes seemed strangely unfocused as he claimed the last empty chair for himself, next to Benni who only raised an eyebrow at the tall blond, mumbling a short excuse in Löw’s direction who acknowledged him with a curt nod.

\--

In retrospect, the alcohol might not have been the best idea. It had only been one beer, usually not nearly enough to make Manu feel tipsy, certainly not enough to get him drunk, but on an almost empty stomach on top of the queasy feeling the conversation with Matze had left him with, it added up to what felt like a quite significant nausea.

He could feel Benni glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes every few minutes, and he would have placed a bet that Thomas wasn’t paying attention to Jogi’s usual sermon either. Manu wasn’t either, but somehow the familiarity of listening to their coach’s strongly accented voice going over the same points over and over again had an almost soothing effect on him. It distracted him enough that he almost managed to forget about the whole thing so that by the time he walked back out to the training centre he felt almost alright again and was able to focus all his attention on the upcoming training game, even if he could still sense the after-effects of the alcohol running through his system, making him feel slightly off-balance.

He’d been assigned to the same team as Thomas, who managed to catch him by his elbow in a quiet moment before they actually started the game, letting his fingers ghost over Manu’s arm quickly while capturing his eyes with a quizzical glance. Manu cleared his throat awkwardly before shrugging his hand off.

“I need to talk to you afterwards.”

Apparently, that was enough for Thomas, as he shot him a soft smile in return, somehow picking up on that whatever it was that had troubled Manu, and he'd come to the conclusion that it wasn't as bad as he'd initially thought. Manu wondered when Thomas had started being able to read him like a book.

The game went a lot better than the training session in the morning, despite Manu still feeling slightly tipsy, and his team managed to win 3:2, with Manu himself securing the win for his team after stopping a free kick from Timo, which made him feel significantly better about himself immediately.

Dinner passed by a lot quicker than lunch had, the upcoming conversation with Thomas not nearly as daunting as the one with Matze had been.

They ended up in Thomas’ room afterwards – during the daytime, no one asked any questions when one player entered the room of another; after all, it was only at night when such behaviour became suspicious. Thomas gently closed the door behind him before walking up to Manu, who was standing in the middle of the room, feeling a bit lost and unsure.

Thomas’ hotel rooms were always less tidy than his own; his suitcase only half unpacked, open and with clothes spilling out of it, pushed into a corner, a hoodie thrown over a chair there, a pair of shoes haphazardly in front of the bathroom door, a few books and magazines on the bed, a phone charger on the bedside table, unplugged. The bed still unmade, the imprints of their heads still visible on the pillows. Most people wouldn’t call Thomas a messy person exactly, but Manu, who was used to each and every little knick-knack belonging to a very specific place, had needed a while to get used to the presence of someone else, of Thomas, not only in his professional life and daily routine but inside his own space, his privacy. By now, the bit of clutter felt like a piece of home.

Manu startled when he suddenly felt warm hands touching his face; Thomas gently lifted his chin with one hand and stroking his neck with another.

“What has been on your mind today? You’re not usually living in your thoughts this much, my dear.”

He was still smiling, but Manu could easily pick up on the underlying concern, only emphasized by the thumb rubbing circles into his neck. Manu took a deep. “Matze knows,” he said.

Thomas frowned, letting his hands fall before gently placing them on Manu’s waist. The midfielder didn’t say anything more but instead tilted his head a bit, a gesture that Manu had learnt meant that Thomas was offering him space to talk, knowing that his voice, his thoughts often got lost otherwise, what with Thomas being a very talkative person and Manu, well, not.

“We ran into each other in the hallway this morning. He didn’t immediately realize that it hadn’t been my own room that I’d been leaving.” Manu chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Actually, he’d been on his way back to his own as well. He’d been staying at Jule’s. Julian Draxler,” he added in an afterthought.

Thomas’ eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised by the news, but Manu spotted a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure he’s been just as uncomfortable with the situation as I have. Blurted out that he wasn’t gay as soon as I’d pulled him aside after lunch, poor guy. That he still has something going on with Julian, though,” Manu sighed. “I told him it was okay, of course. And then ... it was only fair to tell him about myself as well.”

By now, Thomas was grinning widely, the look in his eyes so fond and adoring that it made Manu fluster, blood rushing to his cheeks.

“What?” he asked defensively.

Thomas just shook his head, curling his hands around the soft fabric of Manu’s t-shirt, tugging at it to bring them closer together. “A few months ago you still needed week's worth of preparation and coaxing from yours truly to be alright with telling Benni. And now you’re walking around giving the puppies love advice. I’m proud of you, you know.”

Manu huffed, turning his head away, face still feeling warm.

“No really, I am!” Thomas said, but the trademark mischievous gleam had already found it’s way back onto his features.

Manu resisted the urge to roll his eyes, opting for draping his arms over his boyfriend’s shoulders instead, looking at Thomas expectantly who in turn just smirked up at him.

“What do you think, should we pay the happy couple a quick visit?” he asked cheekily, giving Manu’s hip a little squeeze before untangling his limbs from Manu’s, gently pushing him towards the door before the older man had any chance to protest.

\--

Matze had hesitated a bit before finally picking up his phone from where he’d carelessly thrown it on his bed after he’d returned from training. Normally, it would have taken him ages to compose a text, but now, the desire to finally talk to Julian was overwhelming.

 _Come over real quick?_ There, that’d do the job. He threw the phone back on the bed, letting himself fall back against the soft sheets without waiting for Julian to reply, staring at the ceiling.

He hadn’t been lying there for long when he heard a knock on his door. With a groan he got up to open it, and was immediately faced with his smirking boyfriend.

“Well hello there,” he said, leaning in give him a peck on the lips, faltering when Matze quickly turned his head to the side, hurrying to close the door behind them. He didn’t mean to be rude, but one uncomfortable confrontation was enough for the day.

When he turned back to Julian, the brunet looked at him questioningly. “So, what the hell was that this morning? Did something happen?”

Matze sighed before reaching for Julian hand, tugging him along as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I told Manuel about us.” He figured it be easier if he just came right out with it. Jule, to give him credit, didn’t look too shocked. “We,” he faltered, failing to meet his boyfriend’s eyes. “Actually we met in the hallway this morning and he confronted me after lunch. So I told him. He also has something going on with Thomas though!”

Julian seemed perplexed. “Oh. Really?” he asked, tilting his head.

Matze nodded.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, so he doesn’t think it’s bad or something, obviously. He won’t tell anyone either. Well,” he added after a bit of consideration, “he’s probably telling Thomas.”

Julian nodded slowly, playing with Matze’s fingers, still interlaced with his own.

“And you’re okay with that?”

Matze bit his lip, then nodded after a short pause, causing Julian to shoot him a smile, leaning forward again.

Just as their lips were about to meet, someone knocked on the door again. Before Matze could even open his mouth, Julian had already yelled “come in!”, smiling apologetically as Matze raised his eyebrows at him.

The door opened to reveal none other than Thomas Müller, grinning widely, oozing with confidence. Manuel was hovering somewhere behind his shoulder, looking slightly unsure.

“Servus!” Thomas said, before flopping down on one of the armchairs without asking for permission.

Manuel awkwardly pointed at the other chair, and only sat down when Matze hastily nodded, hands gripping the hem of his sweater.

For a few moments, no one said anything. Thomas was still smirking, Manuel looked even more uncomfortable than he had at midday, and Julian was pointedly looking everywhere, just not at the two senior team members in front of them.

In the end, it was Thomas who broke the silence, obviously.

“ _Jungs, jetzt macht’s amal nicht so a Schmarrn, mia sitzen doch alle im selben Boot!_ ” (1)

It made Matze blush, and he was pretty sure he could see some colour rising on the captain’s cheeks as well, but somehow it startled a little giggle out of his boyfriend.

“So…” Julian rubbed his palms against his trousers before looking up at Manuel and Thomas. “You two! Who would have thought. I mean how did this happen, Manu?”

Manuel just blushed some more, his lips pressed tightly together. (Sometimes Matze forgot that he and Jule went way back, all the way back to Schalke.)

Thomas chuckled, smirking, leaning forward. “Well turns out our captain here had his eyes on me for a while and was just too shy to do anything about it. So I decided to test the waters during the Euros and well, here we are.”

“Hold on,” Manuel interrupted, frowning, “it’s not like I knew I had a chance with you.”

Thomas’s grin just got a tidbit wider as he turned to look at him “But would you have made a move even if you knew that I wasn’t too picky about the gender of my partners, that’s the question!”

Manuel huffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Thomas winked at him, before turning to Matze and Julian again. “How about you, then?”

Julian shrugged. “It was more of a natural progression, really. We fooled around a bit, were both quite content and then somehow feelings developed from there. I’m … glad it turned this way, though.” His smile was so sincere that it took Matze a bit by surprise, but he couldn’t help returning it, his cheeks almost hurting from how wide it was.

“Hmm, well, we only started the fooling around bit when we already were a couple, but I like to think Manu is content whenever I take care of his butt, too.”

\--

“Thomas!” Manu squeaked, feeling his cheeks burn. He couldn’t even be bothered to feel embarrassed about how high his voice sounded. Thomas just cackled, that asshole, as if he hadn’t just disclosed intimate details of their relationship to two of the puppies. (Granted, Matze and Jule weren’t even close to being the youngest on the team anymore, but he couldn’t help but think of the time when Jule had still clung to his apron strings; when he’d looked up to him and admired him. It was strange to think that that wide-eyed boy was the same person as the man sitting in front of him, smirking.)

“Me too. I mean, when it comes to us, I usually come out on top, as well.”

Matze now looked just as mortified as Manu felt (and for good reason, too) and if he hadn’t been as good as frozen himself, he might have shot the defender an encouraging, fellow-suffering smile.

The look on Jule’s face was smug, and it seemed like he didn’t immediately comprehend how uncomfortable he made his boyfriend feel. By now, the other blond had gone from red to as white as the wall, and it looked like he was close to being physically sick. When Jule then turned to look at Matze, his face fell, clearing only then realizing how much of an impact his words had had. He hesitated before gently lifting his hand, putting his arm around Matze’s shoulder, pulling him into him. Matze was stiff, but he still let himself be pulled into the hug, burying his face in Jule’s shoulder. It felt strangely intimate, and Manu suddenly felt like he was intruding.

“‘m sorry”, he heard Jule whisper, and Manu startled a bit when Thomas suddenly put his hand on his his biceps, clearing his throat.

“I think we should go. Come on, Manu, let’s go.”

Manu was sure that their younger teammates probably didn’t even notice him and Thomas getting up and making their way to the door. As he shot them a final glance, before he closed the door behind him, they were still huddled up together, heads resting against each other, hands intertwined.

\--

“I’m sorry,” Julian murmured again after Manuel and Thomas had left, his lips brushing against Matze’s hair, making him shiver. “I went too far. It was just … I’m sorry.”

Matze still felt his heart beating in his throat, but he also felt the adrenalin leaving his body, his limbs loosening. Manuel and Thomas now knew about his sexual preferences. And somehow, it didn’t feel like the world was ending. He squeezed Julian’s hand, who then pulled away to gaze at him lovingly.

Matze couldn’t help his eyes dropping to his lips, pink from where he’d just bit them. It felt inevitable when they finally both leaned in. This kiss broke a dam inside of him, as if every negative emotion that had been filling up his senses was leaving his body all at once and was being replaced with delight and adoration. Julian’s lips were soft and tasted like chapstick, the hand on his shoulder warm, the other coming up to rest against his neck. It was all Matze could take before he wrapped his arms around him, pulling them closer together.

\--

A few hours later, Manu was standing at the big window in his room, looking at the sky slowly getting darker, rich with colour. He hadn’t turned the lights on yet so it was almost dark in the room already. He hadn’t heard the door opening, so he startled a bit when he suddenly felt a pair of lean arms sneak around his stomach.  

Thomas rested his chin on his shoulder, his body moulding itself against Manu’s back, warm and familiar. “Are you okay, angel?”

Manu sighed, putting his hands where Thomas’ were resting against his stomach, covering them with his own. “I think so, yeah. It’s… It still feels weird, talking to people. Being more open about my sexuality. Though, it doesn’t feel as daunting anymore as it did before. It gets easier with each time, somehow.”

He could feel Thomas nod and couldn’t help a timid smile as he felt him press a kiss against his shoulder, muted by his shirt but still so, so tender.

“See,” Thomas said, “I told you, it’s nothing to be scared about. You are still you, y’know, and people aren’t going to judge you for who you love.”

Manu turned his head to look over his shoulder, meeting Thomas’ eyes with his own and raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, fine, there will always be assholes,” Thomas relented, “and I know that football is not the best environment for a gay man, but I think you will be just fine.” He took his hand in his, squeezing them. “I know you will be.” Manu could feel him smirk against his skin. “You’re Manuel Neuer, after all, and you’re nothing if not determined. And no matter what happens, we’ve always got each other.”

At that point, Manu was truly smiling to himself, happiness blooming in his stomach, so he turned around in Thomas’ arms, rested his back against the glass and pulled Thomas with him.

Thomas’ hands rested on his sides by now, gently stroking up and down, and Manu draped his arms over the younger’s shoulders, letting his fingers play with the hairs on Thomas’ neck. Their lips found each other in a slightly desperate manner, Manu gasping softly when he realized that they hadn’t kissed all day. Not a terribly long time, but it still felt like an eternity when you were used to sneaking kisses in locker rooms or in empty meeting rooms in between training.

The kiss tasted of relief and sweat and happiness and Thomas. As they parted, Manu let out a happy sigh, tightening his arms around Thomas, burying his face in his hair.

It felt like coming home.

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * (1) Roughly: "Oh come on boys, don't be like that, we're all in the same boat, after all!" 
>   * I still can't write endings I apologize
>   * I was unsure about the rating and listed it as Teen for now – if you think that it needs to be raised to Mature, please let me know!
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In The Shadows](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12536104) by [Blue_Night](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Night/pseuds/Blue_Night)




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